


Remember how we were, shuckface?

by Edith_Edison



Series: You're Under my Skin. [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Newt, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, F/M, Friends to Lovers, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Punk Winston, Sassy Minho, Slow Burn, Teresa is Newt's best friend, Underage Drinking, but i like it, i don't know why, track team
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edith_Edison/pseuds/Edith_Edison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt and Thomas have known each other pratically since they were born. <br/>Despite the numerous and insistent attempts of Thomas to be his friend, Newt always wanted to be alone with a sketchbook in his hands and his mind elsewhere. <br/>Eventually, the brunet managed to become his best friend but, at the age of eight, he had to leave London with his family due to his parents' work. <br/>Newt felt like the whole world was collapsing around him: his only friend was leaving him. <br/>But Thomas made him promise to wreck his bubble of solitude and to get some real friends.</p>
<p>Nine years later, Newt found himself staring a pair of amber eyes and wondering what was familiar in all that sparkling gold, because he knew he must have seen this guy before. </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>« It's been so long, I know, but I didn't think you'd forgotten me. » [...] <br/>And, finally, he understood. « Tommy... »</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remember how we were, shuckface?

**Prologue: True Friends**

* * *

 

 

_Eleven years ago_

« Newt! » Newt rolled his eyes and snorted annoyed, watching Thomas running towards him.  
« Newt! » The boy repeated louder. He greeted him with a wave and smiled when their eyes met.

Newton, on the other hand, remained impassive and sat more comfortably in the armchair, crossing his arms over his chest.

He was a loner: he didn't like to be amongst people, specially his own peers. For this reason, he couldn't understand all those kids who wanted a little brother or sister; Newt was an only child and completely fine with that.

At school his obnoxious behaviour kept his classmates away: they eventually learnt to leave him alone.  
Generally, the only company Newt tolerated was that of his sketchbook and a pencil: draw was the thing he liked to do the most, it made him feel good.

« Do you want to go to the beach tomorrow? » Thomas asked him, painting from the race and leaning against the railing of the small stairway that lead from the garden to the porch.

But, if Newt didn't like his classmates, he just _hated_ Thomas.

He had always thought he's a child of the worst kind: perpetually in motion, he didn't ever stop talking or asking questions, too curious of what was around him, a wide smile on his face and always about to tell a new joke.

« No. » Thomas' smile, when the blonde answered harshly, widened even more - Newt wondered how it was possible, since it was already _literally_ from ear to ear - and he raised an eyebrow, as if he expected that treatment.

And probably he really expected that, since Newt had always behaved badly with him, more than with anyone else, often begging him to go away and leave him alone because 'I don't want to be with you'.  
Yet Thomas had never been intimidated by him, he seemed to want to become his friend at all costs.

« C'mon, have you ever been to the beach? » He climbed the last two steps and then stopped to talk again with those hazel eyes of his sparkling for the enthusiasm. « We can swim, build sandcastles or meet other children! »

This last though made the blonde freeze instantly; it lured him less than any other.  
« Thomas, I said 'no'. Go away. »

But before the brunet could retort, Newt's mum walked out of the front door. She was surprised to see the boy.   
« Hey, Thomas! How are you? » Her eyes softened and she ruffled his hair affectionately.

« I'm good. Tomorrow I go to the beach with Ben, mum and dad, can Newt come too? » The woman, who by the way was a close friend of Thomas' mother, had always wanted Newt to socialize with his peers.  
Yet she was well aware of the complaints that the teacher often gave her, that his son proves crabby and reticent towards other children.

She saw his drawings hung up everywhere in his room and, even if she loved his artistic side, she had found herself thinking she preferred Newt spending that time with some friends, maybe.   
She wasn't used to pressure him, she knew her baby: he was smart and lovable in his own special way, and also she was convinced that it was only a period of growth.  
But Thomas was far too sweet and kind, despite the cold and nasty replies that the blond had always trimmed, and had passed to invite him to play with him or have a snack almost every day.  
That kid - she doesn't know why - seriously wanted to be friends with her son and she could not help but love his dedication.

Exactly for this reason, she smiled to Thomas for the last time and answered: « Of course. »

Newt's jaw dropped, shocked at the brazenness that Thomas had shown more than once and at the affirmative answer of his mother.  
Why even his own mum was against him?

Thomas hopped in place all happy.  
« Yay! » He turned to Newt. « Tomorrow I'll see you out here at nine. » Then he ran to his house in front of the blonde's one.

« But mum... » He tried to protest.

« You'll have fun. » She knew he wouldn't be angry, at least not with her; he would be sulky all day and talk to her with gestures and monosyllables, but he wouldn't yell at her. _« You will have fun, Newt. I promise. »_ She whispered before kissing his forehead and returning inside.

 

_Ten years ago_

Newt was bored to death.  
'I didn't even want to come to this bloody party', he thought as he ate a handful of cheese fries.

He had decided to partecipate only because _Tommy,_ the day before, had managed to make him promise to be there while they were running around the neighborhood.

« You're my best friend, how can you not be at my birthday party? » The brunet had repeated him a million times, leaving him dumbfounded many times, since no one before - except Thomas, of course - had never considered him their 'best friend'.

The fact that he let in that perky and curious guy in his life didn't mean that suddenly he had become sociable.  
He continued to like solitude and tranquillity, but now he talked to some of his schoolmates, even to girls.

Yet the only one to whom was showing his drawings was _Tommy._ The only one who had invited to his house was _Tommy._ The only one to whom had bought a gift was _Tommy._

And not a simple gift, but the _entire_ collection of Star Wars movies.  
Newton felt almost consumed by the desire to see his eyes when he will unwrap the blue and gold package.

Nevertheless, he found himself sitting at a corner of the room, on the sidelines, watching the children playing and laughing together with Thomas.

Because the brunet wasn't like him and Newt had learned that long time ago.  
He was nice and kind, he always treated everyone well and had a lot of friends who seemed to want to spend the entire duration of the party in his company.

For this, _Tommy_ had spent a very little time with Newt that day, involved more than once by someone always different in a new game.

So he continued to get bored, aware that he would just stay home to watch cartoons on TV, rather than get dressed to the nines to go to that pizzeria and whispered a very embarrassing 'happy birthday' to the boy.

Moreover, he would be angry with _Tommy_ when the latter would ask him why he was he was mad at him: he wasn't doing anything to get rid of those little kids and be with him. 

_But the blonde was his best friend, isn't he?_

Newt sighed and took another handful of chips, then filled himself a glass of water.  
'Whatever', he said to himself, 'if there's a good reason to be bored, that's _Tommy'._  
Because even if Newt hadn't had real friends in his short life, he knew Thomas Edison would've been the best he could ever wish for.

He was sure of that when the others began to sing 'Happy Birthday to you' and Thomas caught his arm, dragging him behind the table on which was placed in plain sight the big birthday cake.

And his anger faded altogether when hugged him and smiled at the camera, because _'I absolutely have to take the first picture with my best friend'._

 

_Nine years ago_

« I still can't believe I'm leaving today. »

« Don't be such a drama queen, _shuckface._ »

Thomas and Newt were sitting side by side on the steps of the blonde's house's porch.

« I'm not...a drama queen. » He frowned. « It's just...I don't want to move to Los Angeles. I don't want to leave London. » Thomas sighted, he was slowly surrendering to reality.

There was nothing he could do, his parents had made that decision a long time before and the day of the transfer had arrived.  
The umpteenth complaints from him and his brother Ben would have been useless. « I'll miss even you, _shank._ »

Newt smiled mockingly, then return suddenly serious.

He didn't want Thomas to leave: he was his best friend and he loved him, with whom he would spend his days?  
With whom he would make fun of the reality shows' guys and with whom he would laugh for the smallest stupidity?

« You'll make more friends, Tommy. »

_« But they won't be you. »_ The other muttered, and for the first time, Newton felt the strong urge to burst into tears.

Suddenly he turned to him and put a hand on his shoulder, staring at his dark brown eyes with his own, feigning seriousness as never before. 

The blonde rolled his eyes, but he patiently waited, genuinely intrigued by this unusual behavior.  
« You have to make some friends too. »  
Newt raised an eyebrow and almost laughed in his face.  
« Newt, I'm serious. » He slid his hand away. « I know you're a _slinthead_ and you'll want to be at home all day, but you've to make some friends. _Real friends. Good that?_ »

Newton nodded in silence, scanning his face and trying to find something that would betray him, something that would make him realize he was just kidding.  
But Thomas wasn't joking and was impatient to hear his response.   
He had a worried expression on his face, the muscles of the whole body tense and the foot tapping frantically on the ground.  
« Good that, Tommy. »

He broke into a smile, one of those that went from ear to ear and squirted joy from every pore.  
One of those smiles that Newt saw only a few other times in his life.

Before getting into the car, finally ready to leave the London neighborhood where he had lived, the Edisons allowed their son Thomas to salute for the last time his best friend Newton.  
The two children hugged and parted with a smile in their lips, a smile that from both sides hid pain.

But, when Thomas had gone away for exactly twenty-five minutes, Newt noticed that he still felt his best friend's arms around his slender body; _that embrace had marked his skin._

It was at that moment, when Newt felt more than ever the emptiness that Tommy had left - beside him, _inside_ him - when he realized that his best friend was _seriously_ gone, he allowed himself to cry.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!   
> I really hope you'll enjoy this story.  
> I'm not English so, please, forgive my mistakes.


End file.
